Slowly as We Fall
by Lyrical-Silence
Summary: How a single day, a single hospital trip, a single meeting can turn the life of transparent Canadian teenager on its heels. How everything can change. AU
1. Did it Only Just Begin?

_If I wasn't here tomorrow would anybody care  
>If my time was up I want to know you were happy I was there<br>If I wasn't here tomorrow would anyone lose sleep  
>If I wasn't hard and hollow then maybe you would miss me<em>

_Would it Matter- Skillet  
><em>

* * *

><p><em>"I'm so tired of being numb…please, someone help me feel. Please…just help me."<em>

Matthew stood limply, staring out the window. This house was so empty. No one was there to smile anymore. After Alfred had moved out, he had grown a little more paralyzed. It had become a little harder to breathe, to walk, to scream. Finally Matthew Williams had become completely forgotten.

~~MW ~~

"Alfred, don't go! I don't mind if you stay! Every morning we can talk and laugh…we can and I'll even make you pancakes!" The Canadian forced a slight smile. "So just stay…"

"Sorry, bro! Arthur'll be waiting for me. I'll take you up on those pancakes though!" He said as he piled boxes into his truck and climbed into the driver's seat. Matthew watched with tired eyes as his brother gave a short wave, and said nothing more than a quick 'See ya'

Then he was gone. In the end, the "hero" hadn't saved him.

It hadn't started then. The pain was something he couldn't remember living without. Sometimes Matty lay in bed wondering if he had been born wanting to die. If that wasn't the case, it was more than likely that it had all come from being ignored, forgotten, unloved, and used.

_"My own brother even threw me away for Arthur." _He thought bitterly. "_Nobody would miss me. I'll do it. Who the hell would it hurt? Fine…" _He did no more than _think_ all of these things, but it felt like the words were being screamed at him. "_I'll just go ahead and die, then"_

He gritted his teeth and his fist collided with the wall as he finally allowed himself to cry. He wasn't ready just yet. Tomorrow would have to come, so he could bid farewell to all that he loved. Matthew would see the sun rise one final time, and then it could end.

* * *

><p><strong>Just a short intro! Please stick with it! It was a request, but I'm happy to write it.<strong>

I don't own Hetalia or it's characters - They belong to Hidekaz Himeruya

(:

**Please continue reading!**


	2. Or Has it Been This Way Forever?

_If I stay, it won't be long_  
><em>'Till I'm burning on the inside<em>  
><em>If I go, I can only hope<em>  
><em>That I'll make it to the other side<em>  
><em><br>Get Out Alive - Three Days Grace_

* * *

><p><em>Or Has it been This Way Forever<em>

His bed was soft and warm. It was one of the few places he felt okay, but the sun broke through his blinds, meaning once more he would have to rise like a zombie out of the tangled cotton sheets. Matt fumbled on the night table for his glasses, finally locating them and putting them on a little lopsidedly. He would be able to see everything clearly now, but he couldn't bring himself to open his eyes for that reason. If the boy could just roll back over and drift away, everything would be perfect.  
>Sadly though, he had to drag himself to one last day of senior year at high school. He was never called upon to answer questions, he ate lunch alone, he walked home alone, and then he was alone again at his own house.<p>

With his perfect record (zero absences and zero lates this whole year) if anyone cared he existed enough to notice his empty desk, they might decide something was wrong and alert someone. Though it was unlikely, Matthew refused to take that chance. Imagine waking up in a hospital alone, after failing at something like dying. He didn't think he could take that, not added on to this.

Slowly and reluctantly he opened his eyes and got up.  
><em>"I can't believe this is it…" <em>the thought made him smile. "_Today will be okay."  
><em>He walked to the bathroom and began undressing. The Canadian boy turned on the shower, and didn't bother testing it. He didn't really care how hot or cold the water was; there was too much to think about. The water ran down his body and soaked his blonde hair until it became dark fell into his eyes. Matthew reached a hand up to push it back and saw the scars on his forearm as it passed. He stared sadly at them and recalled the first time he ever hurt himself.

It had been at least four years ago, when he started high school. Coming out of elementary school, he had hopes of making friends and being noticed in this new atmosphere. Soon he realized there _was_no hope. Just disappointment. Barely two weeks in he understood that high school was not his salvation. It was a hell hole just like any other place. Eventually watching everybody else laugh, love and be loved, became too much. The second the fourteen year old got home he collapsed against a wall in his room and tried to scream. He wanted to so badly to cry out, but being ignored didn't mean he was literally silent. Now everything he was frantic and desperate. Desperate to release all he felt before he burned from the inside out. Before Matt knew what he was doing, he was raking his nails down his arm, hard. He loved the lines of bright red that followed, but they disappeared too fast.

Still, he was blind and couldn't feel what was happening, what he was doing. He staggered to his bathroom and found the sharpest thing he could, then used it to break his skin. One, two, three, four, five wounds appeared before he dropped scissors to the floor with a clatter. He could feel the blood, and it finally sank in what he had done. He would never do it again. But he did. How many times, Matthew didn't know. It was addicting, and it took so long for him to break free.

The boy shut off the water after snapping out the trance-like state that had overcome from mentally re-visiting the past. The morning carried on just like any other ; a bland, tedious, boring routine of showering, eating, getting dressed, and forcing himself to trudge to school with his head hung low. Even the squeak of the door as it opened into the science hall was familiar. As was the shuffling of chairs as everyone took their seats in room 127, a biology classroom. Matthew was situated one row in front of the very back, where only four people sat. He didn't know the names of very many of them. One he knew was called something Ukrainian, so he couldn't quite remember her's exactly. Another's name was Berwald. This he knew because he was often called upon to answer questions. Now all that was left was the one who sat in the very corner and paid no attention to what was going on around him. Occasionally he would speak out during a lesson with some crude language or humour with that German accent of his, resulting in him being sent out into the principal's office. His name was Gilbert, as Matthew understood.

He looked around the room, drinking in every detail so he wouldn't forget. It wasn't that the Canadian liked this particular classroom or subject, but being the last time he would see any of what he normally did, everything felt very fleeting. He felt no hesitation, however. His mind was made up, possibly before he even knew it. He turned his head a bit and glanced at Gilbert seated a few desks away. He was seemingly very interested in his own hand, turning it around a lot and playing with his fingers as he examined it. Maybe he was a bit odd…or stupid…bored and unwilling to do his assignment was always a possibility too.

Hours passed with nothing unusual happening. Matthew immediately stood up when he heard the end-of-day bell ring shrilly. Now he was going to make his stops at places he liked, or things he loved. He would take the city bus to the playground he visited growing up, then the library where he used to go to calm down, and finally the pier, where he would let himself drown. Nobody went there anymore, not after the fire twenty years ago. A carnival was being held when a ferris wheel malfunctioned and caught fire. Twenty seven people died that day, which was enough to keep anybody away from the pier for years to come.

After he visited the other places on his list, Matthew sat on a bus as it hummed along the streets towards the waterfront. It halted a block away at the nearest stop before he knew it. He took a deep breath and shut his violet eyes before stepping off the bus into the chilly evening air.

"_So this is it, eh? It's okay Matt…you'll be okay." _The poor boy thought to himself as he walked.

"_Nearly there…"  
><em>

He was standing directly on the edge of the wooden boards over the water now. The planks were still tinted black from the flames, and he felt as if he could almost smell the smoke and burning wood, hear the cries and shouts… But the lake below him beckoned him, drawing his attention away. How should he go about doing this? Matthew couldn't help but be afraid. He was going on "the next great adventure". He always thought that was bull though. In his opinion, being dead meant being gone.

Considering his nervousness, he thought maybe it would be best if he weighted himself down in case he panicked naturally and tried to surface for air. No…the less time he had to lose his nerve the better. It would take too long to do that. In the end he decided he would count to 3, then walk off the edge.

Matthew smiled a sad little smile and took one of his last breaths of air. Then he began to count.

"_One…two…..three" _ As if in slow motion, but fast forward all at once, he closed his eyes and took a step. Immediately he felt himself falling, then becoming cold as the frigid water enveloped him, hugging his limbs and dragging him down. So cold…so far down

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><p><strong>Oooh, a chapter! I can't believe how long it took to write this. It feels like a lot of words! Three pages on MSW, and you people will be done in five minutes :C Not fair.<strong>

Hetalia and it's character's belong to Hidekaz Himaruya, not me.

**Please review!**

EDIT: I just realized I wrote fat instead of fast. Damn.


	3. It's Been So Long

**_If you listen to rock, I honestly suggest you listen to these songs as you read. They kind of portray the mood of the chapter or characters._**

_Flying along_  
><em> And I feel like I don't belong<em>  
><em> And I can't tell right from the wrong<em>  
><em> And why have I been here so long? <em>

_City of Devils - Yellowcard_

* * *

><p><strong><em>It's Been So Long<em>**

It's dark…is this what being dead is like? It's loud though- I didn't expect this. I pictured…quiet." Matthew thought. But then he realized he was breathing. Breathing then choking at the newfound understanding that he was alive. He didn't feel any emotion at all as he struggled to figure out what was going on in his groggy state. The same reluctance to open his eyes he felt this morning returned. Had it only been that morning? It seemed like decades had passed since his alarm sounded and began his day. But why, why was he surrounded by so much noise? Beeping and voices mingled together into a low, constant buzzing. Matt knew his worries had become his reality without having to look around, but despite it he slowly he cracked open an eye only to see a speckled blue and white paneled ceiling above him. Similarly white walls with an unnatural shade of turquoise paneling beginning half way down outlined the room he lay in. All of this meant he had failed.

The boy had carried out his plans to jump off the pier, he remembered. Though after that he must've lost consciousness because the rest he couldn't bring to the surface of his mind no matter how hard he tried. While it was likely a memory imagined through assumption*, Matthew thought he could recall being carried in the arms of someone tall; he felt so high off the ground. The rest was blank. Every part of him hated that he was in a hospital, with life forced upon him. Furthermore, Alfred was nowhere to be seen. Maybe his brother hadn't heard he was there, but waking up alone was miserable nonetheless, especially given the circumstances.

For the first time, Matt noticed something wrapped tightly around his head. He lifted a hand tentatively and felt thick the gauze on his forehead underneath now perfectly dry hair. It was warm and sticky in one spot he noticed, and when he looked at his fingers he was surprised to see they were now crimson with blood. He was wondering what had happened when a nurse in pale green scrubs opened the door, hospital chart in hand.  
>She look startled to see his soft violet eyes on her and stopped walking towards him.<p>

"Oh, glad to see you're awake-" the woman looked at his information papers "Matthew."

She smiled and approached his bedside to check his bandaging. As she pushed the hair gently away from his eyes she must've noticed the teenager squinting a bit, because she leaned over and picked up his glasses from his night stand, passing them to him without a word.

"Er...I was wondering- could you tell me what happened to my head?" Matt asked sheepishly as he slipped on his frames.

He saw the name tag she wore clearly now and read that her name was Alix.

"We assume you hit it on some debris or a rock in the water. We'll have to keep you under surveillance for a while, but once we're sure it's nothing serious you're free to go. Although, you might have a bit of a scar there. Don't worry; scars are girl magnets I hear"

Alix grinned at him and winked, then took on a more serious expression

"However, the man that brought you here suggested you might have fallen in the water on purpose..." She admitted uncomfortably

Matthew stared at her in horror for a moment. Someone had seen him. It was all over the moment somebody knew he was a danger to himself, and that time had come. If they told a soul, his chances had gone from many to none in that instant. The only option he had left was to lie, and never let go of the untruths he would tell.

"Therapy is available through the hospital, so-"

He cut her off.

"Thank you, but I think it's just been a misunderstanding...is that man still here?"

The Canadian smiled a fake, polite little smile and hoped she told him what he wanted to hear.

"No, he left just after dropping you off."

Was this someone he knew? His city wasn't exceedingly large, but it was by no means the kind where everybody knew everybody. Nevertheless, it _was_ tight-knit enough that they could be in his neighborhood, or grade, or class. There was a part of him that hoped it was, while the other overpowered and filled him with concern that it might be. However, chances were that they wouldn't recognize him even if they saw him every day.

"Would you mind telling me what they looked like?"

She looked to the ceiling in thought for a second, index finger curled to her chin, then back at Matt.

"He was middle-aged... short brown hair, I think"

"You're sure?"

She nodded.

"Positive."

He breathed a heavy sigh of relief. Nobody he knew fit that description. This was undoubtedly proof that things could often be worse. (Though he couldn't say this was the best situation he had ever been in)

"Alix" checked a few more things then left the room, leaving him alone once again. He wondered if the nurse believed him when he denied trying to drown himself, but prayed she had. She had mentioned therapy, as well. There had been times where he felt lost enough to want help, yet not so far gone that he thought it couldn't save him. It had been years since he desired any such support. At this point all he could do was put up a front of strength and hope one day the pain slowly started to disappear. Whether it was through love, a family, success, or money, he didn't care. As long as he could find a reason to wake in the morning, then he would live and breathe through it.

He had just barely gotten use to the silence again when voices, shouts, and footsteps reached his ears. The teen turned his head in time to see another patient rushed into the room followed by a doctor and multiple nurses. He watched curiously, first noticing the startling red he recognized so well coming from the arm hanging off the side of the gurney. Ah...so it was another who tried what he had. The staff acted as though they had forgotten Matthew was there and worked on treating the person as quickly as possible without pulling the curtain.

"We suspect blood loss and deliberate OD, most likely pain killers- most likely a suicide attempt" Stated a nurse

"Ok, stabilize him; make sure his liver won't fail. You-" the doctor looked at a lady with red hair "stop the bleeding, got it?"

She nodded and rushed to do as she was told, scurrying to find a needle and thread as others pulled medicine from a cart. it was difficult to understand why any human being could stand being put on edge like this every day, with the weight of another's life on your shoulders. Matt watched all of this very curiously and wondered why the patient hadn't been taken to the intensive care unit. It must have been packed for him to be in a regular ward like Matt. This wasn't surprising for a small hospital like this one though.

He looked up to the patient's face and his breath caught.

"Gilbert?" he choked

* * *

><p><strong>I'm honestly so sorry that took so long. D: The charger for the laptop I write on stopped working, and I was with a friend for a day and night so I couldn't write then. In all I lost a lot of time.<br>Hope I made up for it though!  
>I also hope that was a bit unexpected. ;D<strong>

_I do not own Hetalia, it belongs to Hidekaz Himeruya_

**Please review, they make me really happy! C:**

**also PM me if I made any typos so I can fix them.**

_memories from assumption- _sometimes if your brain logically assumes that something has happened based on different information, it will make up things, and you'll see it as if it happened, like a memory.**  
><strong>


	4. I Just Don't feel it Anymore

_With my eyes sewn shut _  
><em> To shut down and bathe in these words about me <em>  
><em> And now you're standing alone with your eyes to the sun <em>  
><em>Standing alone with your eyes to the sun<em>

~ Chiodos - The Undertaker's Thirst for Revenge is Unquenchable

**warning**- A couple swears in this one!

* * *

><p>Gilbert slipped his book bag off his shoulder and let it hit the floor with a soft thud. The door clicked shut behind him. He stood completely silent, waiting to hear any sound from within the still halls of his home. When there were none, the snowy haired boy relaxed and glanced at the tall ornate grandfather clock in the corner. One thirty in the morning. Brilliant. He had been out for a long walk, thinking to himself when he lost track of time. Even if he was caught coming in this late and told the truth, it wouldn't matter. To his parents he was scum, a waste of space. They would accuse him of drinking and partying no matter what he said. In stark contrast, they absolutely adored his little brother. As far as his mum and dad were concerned, Ludwig made the sun rise in the morning and the stars shine at night. Gilbert would never understand it. Had he ever done anything wrong? Of course not.<p>

He padded down the stairs as silently as was possible to his room in the cold basement. To water stains on the walls, concrete floors, and a constant cold. The landing was only two steps away when a harsh tug on the hood of his sweater pulled him back, wide eyed and spluttering.

"And just where have you been?" A voice hissed into his ear.

"Walking." Gilbert said coldly, and a little breathlessly.

"Walking, were you? I forgot you were such a pure, innocent little angel." The man -his father- jeered. "Why do you lie to me, Gilbert?"

He was a large, beefy man. He smelled of cigarette smoke and he nearly always had one dangling from his lips.

"I'm not lying to you. And I suggest you get your hands off of me."

He was spun around and given a sharp slap to the face.

"I don't need you to tell me what to do, _Gilbert._"

He hated how his name was used. As a joke. Like just by saying it they were laughing at his very existence. Was he really so pathetic? He was smart, he was attractive, he was talented...all to waste.  
>The worst of it all was that constantly being informed he was useless was the least of his troubles- unlike hiding the bruises from times like these.<p>

The teen's father pulled his head up roughly by the chin, forcing Gil to look directly at him. His expression was intimidating, but he was far past being scared. What was left was anger and a longing to defy everyone who had ever tried to bring him to his knees. Gilbert glared back at him. Fear didn't paint his face as his father had hoped - his rage only grew the longer he looked at him.

"I think you should learn a little respect for you superiors" He snarled, nose inches from his own as he gripped Gilbert's neck, pushing him up against the wall roughly.

Gil pulled at the hands around his throat, trying to free himself. He never once broke eye contact, because he would never admit defeat, he would always go down fighting. Always. It was stupid of him. The harder he resisted, the angrier his dad became, so really, he was sealing his own fate. If only he had let go of his pride, maybe he wouldn't have to live like this. In the end, he would rather be hit and pushed around than hate himself. Self respect was all he had, after all.

He was beginning to feel lightheaded. If this horrible choking continued any longer, he would pass out. Longer than that – he would die. He kicked up with as much force as he could muster, hitting his assailant in the groin. The hands slipped away from his neck as the other hunched over in pain. The bottom step was so close. Getting up and out of his house was all he needed to do, but he was on his knees, gasping, trying to regain his breath. He wobbled to his feet and stumbled forwards up the stairs.

Barely a few steps had been put between them when he was pulled back down, past the landing. The hard wooden stairs bruised him as he fell. Finally the world stopped spinning so fast, and he was laying in a mess on the floor. Everything hurt, and was pretty sure there was blood trickling down his brow. His mind told him he should run, if only he could. Not able to even move, he just waited for the worst. It would surely come.

He didn't have to wait very long. Soon his father was upon him, kicking and hitting with no time in between to even deal with the pain. Gilbert curled up and tight as he could, arms protecting his head, leaving his stomach wide open. The huge man above him took this opportunity to repeatedly bash his foot against Gil's rib cage until one broke with a sickening crack. He coughed, blood suddenly covering the floor in front of him. Something must have punctured. Now he was in a state in which he needed medical attention, something his family would be none too pleased about. Even so, the beating never ceased. He couldn't take any more, he was at his breaking point and barely conscious from the kicks to the head he didn't manage to block.

"What are you doing?" A voice yelled angrily from the stairs, a heavy German accent darkening it.

Ludwig.

"Get off of him." His little brother growled, tone commanding.

"No, the little shit deserves it. Get upstairs and go back to sleep."

Gilbert lay breathing heavily, forced to listen.

"No."

"No?" He looked furious. "What, want to join in?"

"Don't you ever even suggest it, bastard." The blonde's fists and teeth were clenched, obviously just as enraged as the man he argued with.

Their father grabbed a fistful of Ludwig's hair, snarling.

"_Get over there. Do it._Beat him you little fuck, or I will!"

"What‽" He exclaimed, the picture of incredulity as he was shoved toward his brother.

He looked down at him in horror.

"I'm not going to..."

"Ludwig, please...please don't..." His eyes were pleading, his expression pitiful with the cuts and blood covering his face.

There was a few moments of hesitation - an inner war - before finally he cracked.

"I'm so sorry, Gilbert..." He choked

Gone were Ludwig and his dad, leaving him on the floor, broken and bleeding. He stared at the wall, devoid of any conscious thought. You needed to feel something, anything at all for that. It had been a couple of hours since his little brother left, not able to keep facing what he had done. In all fairness however, Gilbert wasn't sure he would be able to if the roles were reversed.

He barely heard the footsteps approaching until they were so near to him he could see the owner beside him. Relief washed over him when his brother's blue eyes met his own red, and a hand reached out to push white strands out of them.

"I'll take you to the hospital..." Ludwig muttered.

Carefully he pulled the elder boy to his feet, supporting him as they limped to his car.

The two of them sat in silence as they awaited the doctor's return. A mirror hung on the wall opposite him. Gilbert was startled at his reflection, who was a frightening, angry looking parallel from the exhaustion he felt.

A woman in a white lab coat strode in, sighing at him. She took a seat beside his bed and stared for a moment, examining him objectively. After what felt like a long while, the lady stopped her intense staring and sighed again, this time in evident pity.

"Look," She said, touching his hand. "I'm not just a doctor, I care. So if there's anything at home, you can-"  
>Ludwig cut her off .<p>

"He got into a fight." He said firmly.

The doctor glanced at his brother, looking doubtful, but pushed it no further.

The last time anyone was alerted of the situation Gil was in, an investigation was conducted, but his mother and father were "totally innocent", and it was soon called off. After that they hated him even more, and things had become more the way they were now rather than a day or two with no food or being put down whenever he was seen. Therefore neither of them breathed a word to anyone, no matter how well Gilbert had gotten to know the hospital staff.

He hated having to hold everything in. He deserved better, he should be the one controlling the others, the one cutting them down or otherwise staying away from them altogether.

"Alright, well be careful-"  
><em><br>Die._

"

I'll get you some painkillers-"

_Fuck you._

"We'll see you again soon-"

_I hate you_

"Alright?"

_I hate everyone._

_I hate you._

_I hope you all die._

_ Just fucking die  
><em>

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><p>IT'S LIKE A SOAP D:<br>So yeah, sorry if I'm a bit over-dramatic in this_, _I had some difficulty writing it.

Please review, I love love love them! (though I don't take criticism too well, be warned)_  
>If you find any typos, pm me!<em>

**I DO NOT OWN HETALIA. All rights to Hidekaz Himaruya**

Sorry for being away for so long!_  
><em>


	5. But We Can Hope it's Getting Better

_Here I stand, helpless and left for dead._  
><em> Close your eyes, so many days go by.<em>  
><em> Easy to find what's wrong, harder to find what's right.<em>  
><em> I believe in you, I can show you that I can see right through all your empty lies.<em>

_- Dance with the Devil by Breaking Benjamin_

This song doesn't fit this chapter so much, but it's a good song. (I couldn't find a song for this part!)

* * *

><p>The crowd of nurses had become smaller. The small crowd left working on Gilbert slowly exited the room one by one, looking very stressed. He however, looked quite peaceful. Matthew wondered when the other boy would regain consciousness. It was so quiet, just the two of them. He was deeply worried for him even though they had never said so much as a "hello" for as long as they had known each other. Well, for as long as Matt had known Gilbert, probably.<p>

Still though, it was a bit unsettling to look at him what with his pale skin, as he looked more like a cadaver than a living, breathing person. He averted his eyes, choosing to look out the window instead. Trees stood tall, sunlight shining through rufescent leaves as they shuddered in the wind. The Earth and all it's beauty - this was something he could regret leaving behind. His home was full of it; rushing falls, lands wrapped in white, fields of golden wheat – all things he could spend a lifetime surrounded by.

"Do I know you?" Came a soft voice, breaking the cloud of silence that had filled the room.

Matthew turned to see Gilbert – awake now- sitting up and looking right back at him, calm as though nothing were going on.

The blonde smiled.

"No. Probably not."

Gil's expression didn't change; he only carried on staring at the boy opposite him curiously.

Matt's eyes lingered for a moment on the face of the other, then shifted back towards the small square of the outside world he could see through the window.

"That's the first time I've heard you speak."

Matthew stiffened.

"You're really quiet." Gilbert stated. "You're in my class, aren't you? Hey – look at me."

The Canadian hesitated. He noticed him...someone had noticed Matthew Williams.

Slowly he turned, but too nervous to look the other boy in the eyes, he simply gazed at the bleached white sheets hanging over the side of the bed.

"What are you doing here?"

Matt tried to think of an answer. 'I tried to kill myself but failed so here I am'? That wasn't exactly something he could tell anyone who asked. On the other hand, that was precisely why Gilbert was there. He badly wanted to make him feel less alone, so why couldn't he bring himself to tell? Desperately, he tried to think up some excuse why to keep it a secret, but damn it, he cared. He cared about other people's happiness, he cared if they lived or died, he cared if they could make it through the day, he cared even though they didn't care back. But even with all of the compassion in the world, he was scared – scared to tell his secrets and with that all about himself.

Instead of answering, he shot a question back.

"Why did you do it?" Matthew muttered in a low voice, staring down at his lap.

He waited, but when no reply came, he glanced over to see Gil looking despairingly lost, like he didn't know what had happened or what to do. Immediately the Canadian wished he had said nothing at all, because just a moment ago the boy in the bed next to him was acting like a normal teenager. – You never would have known there was something wrong with him. Blissful ignorance was certainly preferable to this tension.

"I...I'm sorry. Forget I said anything!" He stammered, hoping to prevent him from breaking down.

"Because I hate it here." The German stated suddenly.

Matthew paused.

"I'm so fucking angry. I don't like anyone, they all care about themselves. I really hate it here. "

He didn't know what to say, so he said nothing at all. Neither did Gilbert.

Every time, the noiselessness of the room seemed to swoop back soon after it had been chased away, swallowing them inside of it and locking the two away. There were no words to give that could truly make it better, but they danced through his head anyways – possibilities that faded away every time he tried to bring them out. He was at a loss.

Minutes passed, until finally it was Gil once again to be the first to speak.

"You didn't answer me. What happened to you?"

Matt heaved a great sigh and shut his eyes.

"I t-tried the same thing you did." He was startled to notice his eyes were getting a bit watery. He really didn't want to talk about this.

"Why, birdie?"

Birdie?

"Because I have no one. Everyone I've ever loved has forgotten or left me. Nobody sees me." He buried his face in the heel of his hands. Matt could feel his palms getting wet now, and he felt angry at himself for crying. It seemed like that was all he ever did.

There was a rustling. He drew a sharp breath as he felt arms wrap tightly around him and Gil's head on his shoulder.

"I told you, people care about themselves. But you and I and everyone else who knows it – we're in it together."

Gilbert didn't let go. Matthew raised his arms tentatively and returned the embrace.

"You know, I never would have known what was going on inside of you if it weren't for this."

"I could say the same..." Matt mumbled

"I'm Gilbert."

"Matthew."

He released Matt and smiled at him. Matt grinned back – genuinely. For the first time he could remember since Al left.

"By the way" Gil said as he climbed back under his covers "I'm going to call you birdie, birdie."

"O-ok" Matt said, surprised.

'_You'll probably lose interest in me soon anyway.'_

* * *

><p>I feel like a horrible person. It's late, and it's short. Please don't hurt me!<p>

**Belongs to Hidekaz blah blah.**

More to come!

REVIIIIIEW


	6. Soon

_Days go on forever _  
><em> But I have not left your side <em>  
><em> We can chase the dark together <em>  
><em> If you go then so will I <em>

_- Anthem of the Angels, Breaking Benjamin_

**I am actually begging you to listen this song for this chapter - if you interpret it the way I do, it's perfect**. Thank you!

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><p>His jeans rustled as he slipped them back on, dry now. Matthew was in the cramped hospital bathroom adjacent to his and Gilbert's room. He stumbled, pants half on, hitting the wall.<p>

"Oww..." He mumbled, and rubbing his already sore head.

It was time for him to leave the institution, but what he would do when he was out, he had no idea. As much as he felt like jumping into the clutches of goodbye once again, the ivory haired boy that lay asleep in the bed just beyond the door forced upon him a reason to stay in the few words they shared. Matt's slid his arms into the rather sorry looking red hoodie he wore so often. The hood and front pocket still felt the slightest bit damp, and in all the clothing smelled rather like lake water.

He turned on the faucet and rubbed the cool liquid on his face, then glared at his reflection. The stubborn blonde curl still stuck up, persisting even when he dampened it with water. He abandoned the task of trying to make it conform, and adjusted his glasses instead. Finally satisfied enough with his appearance to go back out, he turned the door handle, stepping into the brighter, much more naturally lit room. Matthew started towards the door, but glancing over at Gilbert's sleeping face made him want to be what those eyes opened to when he woke, instead of an empty white bed, and an empty white room.

Matthew wandered over to his side, pulling the visitor chair closer and sitting down. Tentatively, he reached forward and grasped his hand, grateful that he was asleep or Matt would be blushing, and completely unable to move.

Gilbert's chest rose and fell steadily as he breathed. What if the boy in front of him had really died? He would be somewhere alone and still. This breath would not escape, the hand clasped in his would be cold, and Matthew would be staying off on his own, mindlessly to an end of his own.

What if Gilbert doesn't survive?  
>The thumb that had slowly stroked the other's palm froze as the thought pushed into his mind. He wasn't sure if he could handle a disappointment so heavy if it were to grow into reality. Here he was again with hopes larger than the stars. Waning, unfulfillable, winged things. Wings not of angels, but of crows with cries unsettling the hearts of those whose ears they fell upon. This was what a hope so unlikely was.<p>

Matt was about to pull to his hand away when he felt a reassuring squeeze round his curled fingers. He looked up in surprise. Gil was smiling at him, looking genuinely happy.

"You're here." He grinned.

Matthew felt his insides swell with felicity. The German wanted him there, he was glad to see his face, it mattered that he showed. So this was what it was like for someone to care.

"I'm here."

Matt beamed.

"Shouldn't you check out?"

"You're more important." He replied. "O-oh...Unless you want me to leave..." Matt attempted to tug his hand out of the mess of their intertwined fingers, but Gil held on tightly.

"No...Please stay" He pleaded.

His tone was pitiful, the blonde had to admit. There was a pull of sympathy at his heart that convinced him immediately to remain.

"I'll be here for as long as you want me here."

Gilbert murmured his words of relief and thanks and shut his eyes.

So long had he stayed by his side that the light had begun to fade, and the noises of cars hushed and slowed. His eyelids felt heavy, and the other boy had been asleep for hours already. Matt rested his head on the mattress and shut them, intending only to give his tired eyes a break, though as it so often was, sleep overcame him. Not for very long.

An employee's voice broke his slumber, informing him that visitor hours were long over.

"Technically" He mumbled "I'm a patient here"

"If that's the case, then I'm sorry, but you either need to check out of the facility or return to your bed, depending."

Matthew looked at her, then back to Gilbert. The bespectacled boy nodded and sighed, reluctantly standing.

The stranger left, leaving him to say goodbye.

Should he leave quietly and leave Gil to his peace, or wake him and say that he had to go?

Maybe the other boy needed his sleep to recover, but he couldn't stand the possibility of him waking up without know where Matt was. Just as he was about to gently shake him awake, he heard voices just outside, the deeper of which sounding like the hushed tone was very forced. Finally the door flung open.

"Gilbert!"

A tall blonde boy stood in the doorway, flushed and concerned. He looked maybe a year or two younger than himself.

Gil awoke with a groan. His eyes searched for the noise until they landed upon the intruder.  
>The physical response was immediate. He tensed and grimaced, shutting his eyes again in annoyance.<br>"What are you doing here Ludwig? Leave."

"What?" The boy – Ludwig - took a few steps toward the bed, confused.

"You heard me – I don't want you here." He snapped.

The Canadian sat silently, unsure of what to do. Why was Gilbert so angry?

"Gil..." Matt whispered meekly.

"Bruder... What's wrong? " The blonde German, apparently his brother, looked dejected as he was cast away by Gilbert. "You wouldn't be alive if I hadn't found you and brought you here..."

"That's exactly it, you asshole! I that's what I wanted you wouldn't have found me like that in the first place!"

A painful silence fell over the room, until finally someone - the snowy haired teen - spoke.

"If you get it, then leave."

The younger one advanced towards the two of them, then took hold of his sibling's hand.

"No, actually I don't get it Gilbert. We could have left, we could have run away. I would always be there for you. No, I was. I hate them as much as you do."

Gil sneered and yanked his hand away.

"You never fought, you only listened to them and did what you were told, even if I suffered. You didn't think hard enough about what I would have to endure. You don't hate them nearly as much as I do, and if you think you do then you have no fucking idea how I feel."  
>He glared, words unyielding. "You're kidding yourself if you think we could have left, because they would have played cute and got everyone searching. Plus I really doubt you would've been willing to give up your grades and you friends and that little boyfriend of yours-"<p>

"Gilbert..." Matthew interrupted weakly

He turned to look at him gave a sad little smile before returning to Ludwig.

The blonde German spoke before his brother had a chance to.

"Fine then Gilbert. If you don't want me to, I won't visit anymore. I apologize."

He stood, strangely calm, and exited the room without another word. There was a long pause before Matt got to his feet, still holding the other's hand.

"Birdie, where are you going" I'm sorry, please don't think I'm an asshole!"

"I-It's not that...I'm sure you have your reasons... Visitor hours are over, I was supposed to be gone a long time ago."

"Oh...Do you promise you'll come see me again?"

Matthew suddenly felt overwhelmed by emotions that he had never felt before; a feeling of being needed and belonging. He felt tears well up and tried to wipe them away with his arm, but there were too many.

"Of course I promise." He sobbed, smiling.

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><p>LE END OF CHAPTER 5<br>**Read the ANNNNN**  
>More to come and then the real plot starts, buddy.<p>

Whoever reads this story, in a review could you please tell me if you would prefer if this story eventually contained a lemon or not, because I really just want to give you guys the best story I can. (: Whichever side has the most votes then I'll go with that. ( And maybe if it leans to no, I'll write a pure lemon as another story just for your perverts out there ;D)

I have to say, I really like the happiness this chapter contains in places. I felt like they deserved it.

If you were wondering, yes Germany's "little boyfriend" is Feli, because it's like ze best ever! No, actually I think PruCan is, but I do like GerIta.

Also, I was so please I found the song I used for the chapter. The bridge/verses are totally perfect (melody _and _words, the chorus' tune is too fast to fit perfectly), even if I didn't want to re-use bands.  
><strong>REVIIIIEW<br>**  
><strong>Hetalia belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya<strong>


	7. We Might Gain What We Hoped For

_My words are not urgent_  
><em> my melody plain<em>  
><em>and all my epiphanies still sound the same<em>  
>- A song, A Story: The Feverfew<p>

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><p>Leaves fell, swaying, dancing in the air like feathers before the landed upon the pavement. They crunched under Matthew's feet as he trudged through the chilly air towards the hospital where Gilbert was. The sun was only just beginning to rise, painting the skies and light in breathtaking shades of violet and pink. He was hoping to make it to Gil's bedside before he woke, and if he wasn't allowed in yet, he would wait until he was. In all honesty, he wasn't sure if this trip was for himself or for Gilbert. Maybe he was just trying to avoid being alone. It didn't matter what the reason was. The boy with ashen hair and crimson eyes would be glad to see him, so it didn't matter.<p>

Soon he could see the large industrial building over the horizon. He picked up his pace subconsciously, eager to get out of the cold and to see his new friend. Reaching the doors, he brushed himself off and took a deep breath before going inside. Even now, so early in the day, people bustled about the lobby trying to get where they needed to be. Matt walked over to the receptionist and cleared his throat.

"E-Excuse me."

No response.

"Excuse me!"

Still, the lady made no indications that she had noticed him, and carried on stapling papers.  
>He sighed and decided just to forget about it and go see Gilbert. No one would know that he hadn't been permitted access to the building's many halls and wings. Besides, he knew where to go already.<p>

Matt heard the elevator ding nearby as it reached the lobby. He dashed over and stuck his foot between the closing doors, causing them to reopen and allow him to enter. It was surprisingly busy, meaning he had to wedge himself in between a man with hygiene that left something to be desired, and a woman with two screaming children.

_"Today looks brilliant already"_Matthew thought bitterly.

Floor after floor they rose until the little number four lit up, signalling that they had reached that level. He and a few others filed out, all going different directions. The Canadian wandered until he came to Gilbert's room, where he knocked once softly then went in.

Unsurprisingly, the boy hadn't yet woken though the room was filled with sunlight and beeping. Matthew stood beside him for a moment, not sure what to do.

"Hey...Gilbert...wake up. Gilbert."

The blonde lifted a hand and poked him on the cheek.

"Gil."

The albino stirred, opening his eyes. He smiled.

"Oh, birdie. Nice to see you." He greeted.

Matt only smiled back and sat down, taking his hand again today.

"Want to know something?" Gilbert asked, looking at Matthew.

He nodded.

"They're going check me over, and if everything's ok, I'm allowed out."

"What? That's great!" he exclaimed, beaming.

The other boy turned his head and stared at the ceiling, looking fairly distant.

"Mm. Only problem is, I have nowhere to go. I sure as hell can't go home."

Matthew's face fell as he realized the truth in Gilbert's statement. He hadn't really thought about what would happen after they left that place. Whether they would return back to school and home as normal, carry on as they had before. Surely neither could live like they had anymore. Both had already reached their breaking point, or they wouldn't be thinking about this. If even one more day like the rest passed by, it might really be too much. That was how they wound up here after all.

"You can come live with me..." Matt said quietly.

Somehow, Gil heard the words he spoke.

"I...I can?" He sat up, looking shocked.

He shook his head yes, gazing at the floor.

"I wouldn't mind..."

"Birdie thank you!" Gilbert flung his arms around him, grinning.

Matt patted him on the back, regaining his composure.

So came another thing he didn't know if it was selfish or selfless. Gil needed somewhere to go, Matt needed someone to be there. Whether it was selfish or not, both of them won.

-  
>The blonde waited outside as a nurse did all sorts of tests on Gilbert, looking for some problem that would keep him here. He crossed his fingers as the clock ticked. What if something really was wrong and he never got out?<p>

Matt pinched himself, trying to force out any negative thoughts running through his mind. He looked up at the little mechanical hands ever so slowly turning round the face of the timepiece. Second after second...

The Canadian jumped as an arm flung around his shoulder, pulling him close.

"Eh? G-Gilbert, you startled me!"

"Sorry birdie!" he grinned

Now that Gil stood up, Matthew realized he was a few inches taller than himself. A black iron cross hung from Gilbert's neck, proudly displaying it's owner's Germanic origins. He wore fitted blue jeans and a deep red t-shirt under a dark, zipped hoodie.

The Prussian dragged the smaller boy towards the desk, then leaned against it, arm still around Matthew's shoulder's.

"Yo, I'd like to check out please." He declared.

The nurse shot him a glare, but pulled out a few papers to fill despite his annoyance. After a few moments, he put down his pen and handed Gilbert the sheets. He pretended to look them over before tugging Matthew towards the elevator, in a hurry to leave.

The two of them exited the building, immediately being greeting by a huge gust of wind whipping their hair back.

"Warm day." Gil commented sarcastically.

Matt nodded, starting down the road home.

The two walked along in silence, the paler boy trailing a few feet behind.

_I wonder if he'll like me. I don't really know how to prove myself to him. Should I trust him? I've never had to trust anyone before. I'm nervous...but I'm really excited at the same time._The Canadian thought. He hoped he could support Gil, both with his needs and emotionally. I was probably best not to tell Alfred, he might come interrogate the albino. He would at least come to then forget what he was doing at Matt's house in the first place.

He stopped at an intersection, pressing the button. A few quick footsteps were heard - Gil had caught up and stood next to him.

"Your hands are red..." He mumbled, averting his eyes.

Matthew looked down. His fingers were indeed red and raw, stinging a little bit now that he paid attention to them.

"Ah, yeah, just a little cold I guess."

Gilbert grabbed one of his hands with little grace, a light blush dusting his cheeks, whether from the cold or embarrassment Matt couldn't be sure.

"Don't want you getting frostbite..."

Matthew stared for a moment at this out of character Gil, then burst out laughing, much to his friend's dismay.

"What? What'd I do?"

"Nothing" Matt said, stifling his laughter. "It's fine."

After what felt like forever in the stinging autumn air, the two reached Matt's house; tall, towering, and beautiful yet somehow wasn't extravagant. It looked like a home. He reached in his pocket and pulled out a loop of small, jingling keys. Since he was still a little numb from the chill, they easily slipped out of his fingers, clattering as they hit the ground.

"Ah, sh-shoot." Matt stooped down and recovered them, sighing.

Gilbert laughed.

"Mattie, you're so cute." He leaned in, touching their foreheads together.

"Y-you used my real name. That's the first t-time you've done that." The blonde stuttered, not sure how to react.

"Is it?" Gil breathed.

He closed the cap between them, planting first a soft, evanescent peck on his cheek, then pressing his lip's against Matthew's in a kiss that felt much too soft to be coming from the Prussian.

So many thoughts were racing, struggling to be the first to make him act. Normally he would have blushed and pulled away, but somehow he didn't want to.

It was over all too fast. Before Matthew could even begin to comprehend what had happened, Gil had broken the connection. Taking advantage of the opportunity, Gil sneaked the keys from Matt and was letting himself in the house.

What was that? What had happened to the shy German who flushed just trying to hold his hand?

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><p>Ah...yeah...happy Monday.<br>This was the chapter I needed to get past to get on with my story. I hope that even though it probably didn't provide you with anything really intriguing, it at least gave you some fluff to hold you until the next addition.  
>I really hope you keep reading!<p>

Tell me, does anybody actually listen to the songs I put at the beginning? :P

**REVIEW, DARN IT.**

Belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya, not me, or it would be one big, angsty yaoi.


	8. If it Takes Forever

_It's so easy to get lost in constantly having to present  
>whatever face you believe a person wants to see<em> _(rather than your own)_  
><em><br>Yet we hesitate to surrender all of our insecurities_

**-A Letter from Janelle Acoustic - Chiodos**

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><p><strong>Chapter eight<strong>

Gil yawned loudly, carrying a pillow under his arm

"Where do you want me to sleep, birdie?"

Matt looked over at him from the sink where he was cleaning their dinner dishes, realization spreading over his face.

"O-oh...oh, maple!" he exclaimed, tearing off yellow rubber gloves and dashing past a slowly reacting German.

Today, broken seventeen year old Gilbert Beilschmidt came to stay with broken seventeen year old Matthew Williams after an inexplicable meeting on a particularly traumatic evening. The two had come by a miserable series of events to the stiff cotton sheets of hospital beds. From the gloom hope feebly shone, sparks from their paths crossing directly feeding the glow. Even though neither of their minds reflected perfect "normality", Matt felt more normal around Gil than he often did alone.

Once they had entered the house earlier that night, the Canadian didn't really know what to do or say. He was being made even more tongue-tied by Gilbert, who every time he looked, was smiling at him like an idiot. It was curious that the albino had such an air of cheerfulness and endless energy considering the truth. That energy was impossible to ignore. Matthew felt it was kind of like when you drink cocoa too soon after you make it – it hurt a little bit, but the warmth was reward enough.

Matt mentally face-palmed at himself for making such a cheesy comparison. To be less vague, he meant that it was painful to watch his friend cling to a facade while finding himself unable to even pretend, but the company was worth small sacrifices.

Clothes were flung this way and that as the Canadian desperately attempted to make the guest room at least somewhat liveable. The reason for its state of disorder was because of a certain blonde, blue eyed, natural disaster named Alfred. The guest room was actually his brother's old bedroom which Matthew hadn't yet gotten around to converting. He supposed that once he cleared the floor, made the bed, dusted, vacuumed, and washed the windows it would be alright for Gilbert to claim it as his own. Actually, that sounded like a lot of work...

"Damn it Al, why couldn't you have just taken all your stuff?" He whined, pulling a face as he tossed a pair of boxers into a hamper.

"Need any help?"

Matt turned to see Gilbert leaning against the door frame, hands buried in his pockets.

"Eh? N-no, that's alright, I've got it!" He said hurriedly. It wasn't that he didn't want any assistance, he was just nervous that the albino might find something embarrassing of Al's. God knows that could be any number of things...he had certainly seen some pretty bad stuff in there before. Gil took a few steps inside the room, looking around as he went.

"Jeez, bomb go off in here?" He laughed loudly. "Don't worry, the awesome me will get it cleaned up in no time!" he boasted as he held up an old sweater (Though he dangled it between his forefinger and thumb at arm's length).

Matt tugged at the hem of his flannel shirt anxiously.  
>Gilbert tossed the clothing aside, where it landed on a dresser (He was quite the help) and began striding around the room, past Matthew, taking in his surroundings.<p>

"Pleasedon'tfindanythingweird, pleasedon'tfindanythingweird, pleasedon'tfindanythingweird" Chanted the voice in his head.

Right on cue, a low whistle sounded a few feet away.

Matt spun round. The Prussian held a sketchy looking magazine in his hand, appearing thoroughly amused as he flipped through.

"Quite the collection you've got here," he grinned, holding up the magazine, revealing a cover bearing multiple half naked men, some wearing things like handcuffs and blindfolds. "My bruder would be proud!"

Matt made a weird sort of squeaking noise and blushed before lunging for it.

"Th-that's not mine, I swear!"

"Oh?" Gil dodged Matthew effortlessly "Then whose is it?"

The boy sounded far too entertained.

"It's my b-brother's, honestly!" He cried as he chased Gilbert and the book.

Why, Alfred- Why couldn't he have just taken that crap with him rather than leaving a nice little surprise for poor Matthew? Gil danced around, waving it above his head.

"Kesesese, did you know he was into this type of stuff?"

Matt felt like his cheeks would burn off, he was so embarrassed. Why was he? It wasn't his dirty magazine!

"Please Gilbert, give it back!"

The albino's back hit the wall and Matthew cornered him, gripping the front of his sweater. His friend's laughter faded as he gazed down at the shorter boy. He was flushed red, his expression pitiful.

Gil bopped him on the head with the magazine, then removed Matt's fingers from his sweater before closing them over the pages.

"Just don't let me catch you reading that." He winked.

The Canadian grumbled a bit. It was only once he felt the other's warm breath on his forehead that he realized how close they were. He wasn't used to this kind of contact. At all. Never had he been the one who was showered with affection and attention; that was Al. Alfred's mere presence demanded that all eyes remain on him, and he relished in it. Matt was the complete opposite. He was practically transparent, he grew anxious under people's stares, though he rarely got any. If the world was a play, Alfred would be in the spotlights, and Matthew would be backstage.

Suddenly his feet were off the ground as Gilbert lifted him by the waist, spinning him around so he could get past. He smiled brightly at him and gave a little Eskimo kiss before putting him back down. No reaction came from Matt – he didn't really know what had just happened. So when the teen marched out of the room, calling "See ya later, birdie!" over his shoulder, he just waved meekly.

-MW-

Hours later, Matthew wiped the sweat off his brow. Finally, the space was spotless. No thanks to Gilbert, of course, but he didn't really mind. It was dark out by now, and as he recalled, the German had been tired even before he started cleaning. Hopefully he had just crashed on the couch. His stomach felt like it was tumbling around inside of him. He felt slightly uneasy, like this was all a mistake. Soon he would stop second-guessing his choices, but right now he was just a bundle of anxiety. When he was a kid and woke up in the darkest of the night, his papa would heat up some milk and lie with him until he calmed and drifted off once again. Even if papa wasn't there to recreate most of that, he decided to head to the kitchen for something warm. Matt gave a final glance around the room, then gently closed the door behind him.

Much to his annoyance, the floorboards loudly creaked as he trod upon them. Everything here was creaky and old (not surprisingly though, since the estate came to be way back in 1867). The interior was still very reminiscent of the Victorian era, with dark, rich woods and heavy red velvet furnishings.  
>As he drew nearer, Matthew noticed a light on at the end of the hall. So, Gilbert was still up, huh? And eating, too.<br>Just like Alfred. He chuckled, but his heart felt weighted. Matt thought those two were a lot alike.

Peering into the room, he saw no movement. Slowly he crept in, and then opened the fried door. The cooling unit shut off, ending the soft whirring noise.

"Nn – Birdie?"

Matt spun around, nearly dropping the pitcher of milk to the ground.

"Sh-sheesh, you startled me." He sighed, body relaxing.

Gil sat hunched over at the table, rubbing his eyes sleepily, apparently just having woken up.

"What were you doing, Gilbert?"

The boy buried his head in his makeshift arm-pillow as he must have been doing before, judging by the eyelids that fluttered, fighting to stay closed, the hoarse voice, and every other obvious clue.

"I was waiting for you - hoping t'say goodnight." He said, words muffled.

Matt blinked. He had been waiting all that time in the cold kitchen just for him?

"You could have just come upstairs and told me, you know."

"Didn't wan' to interrupt you."

A gentle smiled graced the Canadian's face before he set the milk down on the counter, no longer caring about it.

"Come on," he reached out a hand. "I finished cleaning."

A groan came from the exhausted boy, who took Matthew's support and slowly stood up, body drooping. Gil leaned heavily against him, eyes closed. The smaller boy awkwardly went about where to touch him, making small advances and retracting them. Hesitantly, he slipped an arm around his waist and the other teen automatically placed his own over Matt's shoulders.

They silently made their way to the floor above. At the top of the stairwell was a large square space, with two doors on each side, save for the one the top stair didn't face. That wall held a large window seat with elegant pillows and cushions, deep crimson curtains hung beautifully above. Matthew and Gilbert's room's were side by side – Matt's farther from the window

The two stopped in front of their respective doors. Gil was the first to turn to the other, hand on the doorknob, leaning slightly out for a clearer view.

"Gute nacht, Birdie" He smiled.

Matt stared for a moment before it occurred to him Gilbert had just spoken some very simple German.

"O-Oh! Good night!"

He continued watching until he heard the squeak of the doors hinges and his friend slipped inside. He did the same on his own side, stepping into a warm, mildly cluttered space. Most would expect perfect tidiness from Matthew, but that wasn't really the case.

Proof of this was how he discarded his clothes on the carpet before redressing into pair of navy blue pajamas he picked up off of it. He smoothed out any wrinkles before padding over to his bed. Yawning, he crawled under the covers. Every day he waited for this moment. In that moment he became safe, surrounded in warmth. It was like no one could touch him. With that feeling of seclusion, not loneliness, he drifted off.

~~~MW~~~

Matthew woke to noises from beyond the wall. Shaking breaths and strangled whines so faint he could barely hear them. His awakening mind slowly connected his body with his surroundings, putting all pieces together.

Piece one- He was lying in his bed.  
>Piece two- It was still dark.<br>Piece three- Something was happening next door.  
>Piece four- Gilbert.<p>

Matt sat up, rubbing his eyes. He wondered if going over there was the right thing to do. The lines between the best and worst actions are always blurry, especially since no two people are alike, meaning no matter what you do, not everyone will be happy. Going with his gut feeling, he slid out of the bed, feet touching the cold hardwood floor. He walked cautiously, only placing weight on his toes. The door whined as it opened- he shushed it and continued on. The noise he heard earlier was louder now, by the entrance of the room. He rapped on the door softly twice, then gently opened it, peering inside.  
>Gilbert sat hunched up with his back against the bed, face hidden behind his knees. His fingers were laced through his hair, and in all honesty, he looked a complete mess. His whole body racked with sobs and those horrid gasps you get only when you cry a great deal. Matt was taken aback, and stood unmoving in surprise for a moment before taking a few tentative steps forward. He kneeled next to the Prussian, reaching out diffidently to touch his shoulder.<p>

"Gil?"

He gave a start at the call of his name and the sudden contact. Promptly, he looked up and dragged his shirt sleeves across his cheeks, trying to dry away any tears.

"Oh, birdie – what's up?" he beamed, though his face was splotchy and Matthew had seen enough not to be fooled.

When he received only a knowing gaze instead of a response, he broke down again, like he had given up. Despite having complete awareness of Gilbert's instability, Matt couldn't help feeling a little shocked. Everything had been so well hidden that seeing him like this was like looking through a keyhole. Just a small glimpse in, but it reveals all.

Matthew crawled over in front of Gil, hugging his knees and resting his chin on them, a very similar position to the paler teen. He waited, not wanting to rush him into talking. It would be better not to ask too many questions, and just let everything unfold. There they remained - in that silence as a wall clocked ticked in the corner, but only for a minute or two, then Gilbert spoke.

"What's wrong with me, Mattie?" He asked wistfully.

"There's nothing wrong with you-I think that you're great."

"...Then why have I been treated like dirt?" Gilbert's eyes were fixated on ground in front of him. You could tell by looking at them that a million thoughts were running through his mind. Matt waited a few seconds to see if he would elaborate, but he didn't, prompting Matthew to ask more questions.

"What do you mean? By who?"

Gil glanced up at him, then back down at the rug.

"My family...my peers...everyone, I guess." He sighed. "I spent my whole childhood being abused. At first it wasn't so bad –only a few insults here and there- but it just got worse. No matter what I did my parents were always angry. By the time I was eleven or twelve I could barely go a day without getting hit... I couldn't escape at school, either. Kids are evil little bastards; they can sense weakness, I swear." He chuckled despite himself. "They hated me there too. Eventually I just learned to distance myself from them, but it's not like I could do anything at home. My little brother was safe though, at least. Our parents really adore him. Maybe it's because I ruined their young lives or something that they only want me dead."

It was out. His story was darker than he had expected, but it fell into place.

"I'm sure they don't want you dead...I don't..."

"I do." Gilbert burst out.

Matt paused, then gave him a warm, albeit awkward hug. He wasn't good with words. He wasn't good at comforting people in general, actually.

"Um...you can just wake me up if this happens again, ok?" He said, pulling away. Gil nodded solemnly.

"...I had nightmares. I'm really weak, aren't I birdie?" You could tell by his tone that his mind was already made up on the answer, and Matthew needn't really reply. But he didn't agree.

"Not at all. If anything, you're the strong one and I'm the weak one. For what you've been through..." He trailed off, not entirely sure how to finish the thought. Sure, there were, sadly, millions of kids on earth going through similar situations and just as many who had already gotten through them, but it was still amazing to him that anyone could stand that. True, Gilbert had eventually snapped, but in his place, Matthew wasn't sure he would have lasted so long.

After a moment he put on a friendly expression and stood up, brushing himself off. He had just turned to leave when Gil grabbed his wrist.

"No, wait," He pleaded. Matthew returned his gaze to the other. "Please stay here- just a little bit longer, alright?"

Now he couldn't help but smile.

"Of course." He said, sitting back down against the bed next to the other.

Gilbert rested his head on the violet-eyed blonde's shoulder, soft silver hair tickling his neck.

"Thanks."

Gilbert rested his head on the violet-eyed blonde's shoulder, soft silver hair tickling his neck. Again the quiet, rhythmic "click" of the second hand moving through the minutes was left to keep them company as Gil's breathing grew slower and he drifted off to sleep.

* * *

><p><strong>Hetalia &amp; it's characters belong to Hidekaz Himaruya<strong>

Yes, I'm a horrible person. :C It's been a long time since my last update, but I WILL get this fic done. I'm not going to abandon it. I hope the length of this chapter makes up for it, since it's double what I normally write. There was supposed to be a whole other day in it, but that could easily be another 1,500 words, and then it would be out it fucking June or something.  
>The delay for this chapter was partly because: RP, Reddit, Skyrim, and the fact that I think I have a "willingness to write" gauge that is depleting.<br>At first my goal was Dec 19, the day before my birthday (I was going to persuade you guys to review as a present), then Dec. 20 (same), then Christmas (as a gift to you guys), then new year's eve (to start off 2012 on a good note), new year's (ditto), yesterday (because so many of you started school) and finally I got it done today.

Please review. It makes me want to write more, really.  
>Also, if anyone has any ideas,requests, suggestions, etc. for the story, I would love to hear them!<p> 


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